What If Digits
by restive nature
Summary: This story is just an off-shoot of what might have happened in my story WIC. Sometimes being a man-slut could kinda come in handy.


Series Title: What If…

Chapter Title: Digits

Author: Restive Nature

Disclaimer: Neither show represented in this fiction belongs to me. Dark Angel is the product of Cameron/Eglee and Fox, whereas Supernatural is the product of Kripke and The CW. No profits are made from this fiction and it is intended for private enjoyment only.

Rating: PG-15 for language

Genre: Crossover

Type: Schmoopy, maybe slightly angsty.

Pairing: none really, just Dean and a potential hook-up

Summary: Sometimes being a man-slut could kinda come in handy.

Spoilers/ Timeline: This story would have taken place after Sam had left for college, Max would have been about seventeen.

Feedback: Always welcome!

Distribution: Ask first please.

A/N: This story, while being in the same universe as WiC, does not actually occur within that storyline. This fiction is just an off-shoot of what _might_ have happened.

"I hear him now," Max hissed to her father as she began hastily stowing strewn pieces of paper from the table where she had John had been seated for the last few hours.

John cocked his head to the side and was just able to discern the low rumble of the Impala. He glanced at the bedside clock where red numbers illuminating the time were visible in the shaded corner. "He's early," he commented with a grin. And indeed he was. Both John and Max knew that when Dean declared he needed a night out, he really meant, a _night_ out. And so, it being just after one-thirty in the morning, something was probably wrong.

Although, in this city, perhaps it was just that the bars were closing early. After all, it was a Tuesday night and the timing didn't seem right for it to be a payday. Since it wasn't a Friday, or the middle nor the end of the month. Well, all they could do was wait and see what had transpired. A grin lit their faces at the exact same moment as the rumble of the car's engine ceased and scant minutes later, they heard the key in the lock of their motel room.

Dean seemed surprised that the lights were on and that both father and sister were waiting up for him. But he didn't comment as he made his way inside. He shut the door and toed off his shoes, then began to shuck his jacket as he headed towards the bathroom.

"So'd you shut the bar down son.?" John asked, though his eyes were on his daughter.

"Nah," Dean replied, his voice sounding amused, though slightly weary. "It was kinda dead in there, so I left."

"Yeah, you sound tired," John commented, though not unkindly.

"That'd be the beer talking," he joked as he reached for a paper covered glass. Pulling the paper away and discarding it in the trash, he filled the glass with tap water, never noticing that the rustling had been echoed in the other room.

"So you just had a few drinks?" John inquired.

"Played some pool too," Dean declared after he'd finished swallowing from the glass. Again some paper rustled, but if Dean thought about it at all, which he wasn't, he would have figured it for research.

"How much did'ja win?" Max asked, amused.

"Not much," Dean sighed, his forehead creasing as he thought it over. "About a hundred, hundred and fifty." He heard a disgusted grunt from his sister and echoed the noise himself. There hadn't been too many people willing to play for money that evening.

"But I'll bet you met a girl, right son?" John teased, bringing Dean's grinning visage back out into the room.

"But of course," he replied cheekily. He waggled his eyebrows at his father and then returned to the bathroom to replace the glass on the counter. There was more paper rustling.

"So was she a blond or brunette tonight?" Max called and Dean could almost hear a giggle in her voice. Odd, but he wasn't really concerned.

"Redhead," he called back. "A lovely, luscious redhead," he murmured softly. There was a frustrated grunt from out in the main room and the sound of a hand slapping on the table. Dean wondered if they were playing cards, though he really didn't recall seeing anything at all on the table. But then, he hadn't really been looking. Sighing, he reached for the toothpaste and his toothbrush.

"I suppose you got her number, huh?" John asked.

Dean stuck his head around the corner again, his mouth full of cleaning instrument and froth and gave his father a _what on earth are you on, of course I got her number_ look. Both John and Max were staring at him expectantly, so he reluctantly nodded. The pair of them glanced at each other and it seemed to Dean that Max looked smug. Shrugging, he moved back to the sink to rinse out his mouth and heard that rustling again.

"So, just her number Romeo?" Max called out. Dean wiped his mouth with the semi questionable towel hung on the bar beside the sink and finally came out of the bathroom.

"What's up with the twenty questions?" he teased and tugged affectionately at a strand of his sister's hair. Normally she would have brushed him off, pushed him away, smacked his hand or at least said something. This time she didn't even try and jerk her head away. Something was up. She just smiled up expectantly at him. "Yes just _her_ number. She was bar tending," he answered. "Like I said, it was kinds dead there. And not in a fun shoot 'em up, burn their bones kind of way."

"So what was her name?" John asked, drawing Dean's attention away from her gamine face.

"What does it matter?" Dean scoffed.

"Well, most girls probably like it if you get their name right when you're ban-!"

"Don't even finish that thought young lady," John's voice barked out and Dean had to hide a smile. Some things would never change and John not admitting that Max was growing up was among them. Father glared at daughter for a moment and then turned back to his eldest, waiting with a slightly amused smirk.

Dean shrugged. If they had so little amusement in their lives that they had to pump him for details, well, okay. Maybe the television had been out or something. "I don't know. It was Mindy or Cindy or something like that. The music was playing when she told me and I didn't really catch it." He pursed his lips and drew his eyebrows together again, lost in thought. There was that rustling again. "Or maybe it was Rhonda." The rustling stopped and Dean chanced a glance downward.

There, between them on the table were two sheets of paper, one slip in front of each. Max had her hand outstretched and was making a 'gimme' motion. John was shaking his head 'no'.

"Come on," Max whined, "I had all the 'in-dy's'."

"Yeah, but you just heard him," John grunted. "Could've been Rhonda."

Max scoffed. "Right Dad. That was a good pick, all the Beach Boys babes."

"Hey," John protested. "The town's small enough. Betty Lou and Peggy Sue are definitely possibilities. And so was Rhonda."

"Yeah but he said Mindy or Cindy first, so… me!" Max retorted. "Gimme!"

"You guys were betting on me!" Dean exclaimed loudly, his eyes wide with disbelief. The pair of them, seated at the table, seemed startled at being suddenly reminded that he was standing right there.

"Um yeah," Max replied in a casual voice.

"You were-!" Dean began to repeat, but John's laugh interrupted him.

"We do this all the time," he chuckled, clapping his hands together in amusement. "I thought you knew."

Dean sighed. Only in his family would this be a valid form of entertainment. But then a brainstorm hit him. "All right," he nodded. "So who's winning?"

"We're about even," John frowned. Unusually, the betting had split, with both of them raking in even amounts from the other. "It's down to this last one."

"What's the action?" Dean wondered, leaning over the table. They had actually written the bets out on slips of paper. He could see others now, littering the floor.

"Fifty bucks," Max smiled. "All the rest were chump change. So what is it. Mindy or Rhonda?"

"Well," Dean drawled. "I might be persuaded to remember… if the winner cuts me in for half the winnings."

Max and John glanced warily at one another. Well, this completely ruined their fun, now that Dean had found out about it. But oh well, they were both curious. "Deal," they said together, both leaning forward to await his answer.

"So what is it son?" John demanded. Dean shrugged.

"Honestly couldn't tell you," his eldest son smiled. "So I guess it's a good thing she wrote it down for me." He turned on his heel to return to where he had laid his jacket.

"And you didn't bother to look at it to figure out her name?" Max asked scathingly.

"It was just as I was leaving," Dean smirked over his shoulder at her. He withdrew the folded napkin and flipped it open. He returned to the table and tossed it down in front of Max. "Looks like you owe me."

Max snatched up the napkin, her hands suddenly trembling as she read the information printed in bold black marker. Before either John or Dean could say anything more, she had dropped the napkin and was running for the door. Their startled shouts were echoing still behind her as she took to her heels, heading for the place from whence Dean had just come.

"What the hell is going on?" John demanded. Dean hurriedly snatched up the fallen napkin and scanned it again, since obviously the name and number had caused this reaction. He inhaled sharply as a long ago memory played over in his mind.

"Oh crap," he muttered, thrusting the napkin at his dad. "I didn't even think…"

John took in the name and his eyes jumped to his son's. "You don't think…?" he asked breathily. Well it didn't matter what they thought. It was obvious that Max thought so. Grabbing their coats, and Max's, they hurried after the girl, whom they could now see, in the distance, running down the street.

Not bothering with the car, they hurried off after her. Truthfully the bar wasn't that far away and they managed to catch up with her as she stood, waiting at the edge of a circle of light provided by a street lamp. Max was leaning forward, tense like an animal waiting to spring. And yet at the same time, they could see the tiny gleam of fear tremoring through her. The thought that perhaps this had just been coincidence.

"Max?" Dean asked softly as he moved to her side. Her gaze flickered upwards to his face, just momentarily and then went back to apprehensively watching the building that he'd been at not so very long ago. He reached out and cupped her shoulder. "Come on. You won't find out for sure unless we go inside."

A small sigh of capitulation seemed to sound deep in her chest. Dean's hand slid comfortingly down her arm, not at all surprised when her fingers caught his and gripped them as if they were a lifeline. He waited for her to move, since this was her choice after all, and once she had, he stepped after her. He could see out of the corner of his eye that John was on the other side of her, slightly behind her.

They had only taken a few steps when a sudden noise halted Max's steps. It sounded like a heavy door opening and then clanging shut. They waited, breathlessly to see who would emerge, their eyes scanning the building before them, from where the sound had originated.

The bar, moderately sized, was surrounded on three sides by a parking lot. The other side faced out onto the street. The public entrance was at the front, on the corner closest to them. But at the back were the fire/ emergency doors. Lining the wall beside that door was a short row of dumpsters. At the back, a motion detecting light had come on and all three blinked their eyes to acclimate to the dark. A slim figure, most likely female had emerged into the light, carrying several trash bags, her destination obvious. Dean heard Max's sudden gasp as the hip length, red hair of the woman became obvious under the yellowish light.

"Jondy," Max whispered, joy palpable in her voice, yet also tinged with hesitation and fear. The woman went still, like someone had walked over her grave and then very slowly, she lowered the bags to the ground. Covertly, she seemed to be searching for signs of further whispers and when her head turned in their direction, Max called again, louder this time. "Jondy!" She stepped away from Dean, though she didn't let go of his hand. She wanted to make sure that Jondy, if it were indeed her, would be able to see her clearly.

The body that had been held tautly as the woman searched for imminent threat, seemed to sag after a moment and then she too whispered. "Max?" The name was carried across the parking lot on the briefest of breezes, that carried along with it too unutterable yearning. Max nodded once and Dean felt her hands go slack. He responded accordingly and let go as suddenly the two females were running toward one another.

They caught each other in a tangle of arms and cries of each other's names. Dean could see where Jondy's knuckles were white, she was holding onto the younger girl so fiercely. The older girl pulled away and framed her hands on Max's face.

"Oh God baby sister," she cried, tears streaming down her cheeks. "I thought you were dead! I saw… the ice… and I didn't know. Oh God! I'm so sorry Maxie! I'm so sorry."

"It's okay," Max replied, laughing and crying at the same time. "I'm here. I'm okay." She had pressed her cheek against her pseudo-sister's shoulder, still murmuring reassurances.

Dean and John watched, taking this all in. In a way, Dean wasn't surprised when he caught the hint of a tear in the corner of his father's eye. In fact, he almost, almost felt a little misty himself. It took a while, but eventually, the girls seemed to realize that they were still there, all of them in the middle of a parking lot at two in the morning.

"You!" Jondy barked in surprise as she looked at Dean, still hanging back with John.

"Yeah me," he confirmed with a cheeky smile. Jondy's bewildered gaze dropped to Max, who had stepped back from the embrace, thought like she had earlier with Dean, she still kept hold of Jondy's hand.

"He's my brother," Max announced happily. "And this is my Dad John," she added, gesturing towards the older man. "They adopted me."

At those words, Jondy was finally able to smile. She wiped her eyes quickly with her hand that was free, wiped it on her jeans and then held out her hand to John, who shook it politely. "Oh, it's so nice to meet you. I never thought… tonight of all nights…"

"What's tonight?" Max asked, concerned. Jondy gave a wistful, rueful smile.

"Someone found out I lied about my age and told my boss," Jondy shrugged. "My boss Larry already knew. He figured that as long as I wasn't drinking, it was fine. But if word gets around, he could be in serious trouble. So tonight was going to have to be my last. But oh, now you're here and everything's better." She looked as if she couldn't believe that everything that had happened in the past ten minutes was truly real and she hugged her younger sister to her again. "Oh, you guys should come in."

Dutifully, the males trooped in after the females. There were quick introductions around and Larry, though they had been in the process of closing up, genially offered up the bar for Jondy's long-dreamed of but never believed in reunion with the pseudo sister that she had thought was dead.

As Jondy was gathering some drinks for them, she twisted her head around "Oh man," she gasped. "I've got to call Zack!"

Max went completely still. "You know where Zack is?" she demanded huskily.

"Oh no sweetie," Jondy apologized to her sister. "He's always on the move. But I have a number where I can get a hold of him. Oh God. He's going to just flip."

Both girls grinned like mad. Jondy handed the drinks to her sister and the Winchester clan retired to a table while Jondy unearthed her cell phone and set about making the call to their brother. She soon joined them at the table and an awkward small talk reigned, since Max and Jondy couldn't let Dean and John knew every detail of their previous lives. And since John, Dean and Max were unable to clue Jondy in about their daily lives.

And so talk turned to where Jondy might go now that she was jobless again. She was about to answer when her phone rang. With an apologetic smile, she jumped up while answering. "Zack? Man that was quick. What are you doing?" There was a pause. "Well are you sitting down? I've got someone who wants to say hello to you."

She handed the phone to her sister, whose eyes had lit up. Max took the phone and whispered her big brother's name. There was an ear-deafening squeal and then conversation began to flow. Unable to contain her excitement, Max began to wander around the bar as she talked.

The other three watched her, identical indulgent smiles on their faces. When Max finally leaned against a wall in the far corner of the bar, Dean turned back to face the up until now enigmatic older sister. There had been something niggling at his brain, and he was sure that it had in his father's as well.

"I hate to ask," he began, catching Jondy's attention, "but earlier, outside, you said something about Max being dead." Jondy held his gaze for a moment and then her eyes dropped away.

"How much did Max tell you about our childhood?" she murmured. Dean and John exchanged glances.

"She doesn't talk about it much," John answered. He could see in this girl, the same reticence that was always in Max when her past was brought up. "Just that it wasn't good and that when she was nine, she and some of the other kids ran away."

Jondy nodded slowly. Leaning forward, she told them, "when we ran away, it was the middle of winter. Max was following me. We had no idea where we were going. We were on a river before I even knew it. I heard the ice break and…" The men could hear the strain in her voice as she tried to keep control over her emotions. "I turned around just in time to see Max fall in. I… I tried to get back to her, but the ice was breaking everywhere."

They could almost see this happening in their minds, her words were so evocatively pleading, hoping they understood.

"I had to get to the other bank," she continued after she had pulled herself together. I went down river, trying to see if I could see her… under the ice. It just kept breaking further and further along and I kept thinking I'd see her. That she'd surface and then I could help her."

"How far did you go?" Max asked quietly from behind her sister. Jondy startled and spun around to face her sister. Both of them knew that she was lying and both knew exactly why. They had to protect their secret. But as if they had never been parted, they'd played off one another like the unit they had trained as.

"Oh God, it must have been at least a quarter of a mile," Jondy sighed. Max shook her head, taking the empty seat next to her sister.

"I cam out about 30 feet from where I fell in," Max bit her lip. Both John and Dean were leaning forward, listening avidly. This was something that Max had never talked about before. "I hit something, I don't know what and was able to grab a tree root that extended into the river. The ice was breaking and I pulled myself out."

"My God," John breathed. "It's a wonder you didn't freeze to death."

"I suppose I would have," Max shrugged, "if Hannah hadn't come along."

"Who's Hannah?" all three voices chorused. Max smiled at them all.

"She was a nurse who worked in town," she recounted for them. Only she noticed that Jondy's eyes had narrowed suspiciously. "She took me to a cabin and got me warmed up. But then she told me that she had to go get supplies. So she left me alone. And she never came back."

"She left you all alone?" Dean demanded, disgust evident in his voice.

"Something could have happened to her," Jondy suggested, her voice quavering. "An accident, or…" The group fell silent, contemplating this. Only two of them knew that more than likely, the woman had been caught by their unfriendly neighborhood soldiers.

"Well anyways," Max suddenly interjected. "Zack has got some loose ends to tie up and then he'll come out and meet us… wherever!"

"That is good news," Jondy chuckled. "It's been ages since I've seen Zack."

"So where do we want to meet him?" Max asked happily as she resumed her seat, not noticing the look that passed between father and son. They had long wondered about this. What would happen if Max ever found her first family. The one that she longed for on quiet nights. The one that no matter who else came along after, no one could really compete with. They understood, really they did. But still, the thought of losing Max's affections, even just a little bit of them... well, neither John nor Dean really wanted to dwell on that.

"I don't know," Jondy bit at the corner of her lower lip. "I was planning on moving on. I guess I still could."

"Anywhere specific?" Max asked, reaching for her lukewarm soda that had been largely ignored until now.

Jondy shrugged one shoulder contemplatively. "Probably a bigger city. Maybe something out on the west coast. There'd be more opportunities for me there." Max nodded although all three could see the logic in her thinking. Jondy leaned back in her chair with a sigh. "It kind of sucks though."

"What sucks?" Max chuckled, running her finger around the rim of the pop can.

"Now I gotta make a choice," Jondy grouched. "My stuff or my bike. I won't be able to make a long distance move and I can't afford a truck. Or well, I guess I could if I didn't mind not living in an actual apartment for a month or so."

Max nodded, though her eyes were lit up at the mention of a bike. "So what d'ya ride? I've got a Ninja 650." Both John and Dean hid smirks and chuckles as Jondy's eyes lit up in the exact same manner as Max's. Obviously they were more than sisters. Kindred sprints seemed more like it. As the two began discussing different makes and models of motorcycles that they liked, John leaned back and gave a casual look to his son that spoke volumes. Dean understood immediately, quirking one eyebrow up and giving a short nod to his father.

John waited for the talk to die down, for a natural lull in the conversation before he leaned forward. "You know Jondy," he began with a small grin. "We've got plenty of room, what with driving two vehicles. I'm sure we could fit some stuff in my truck. Help you move and what-not."

Max gave an excited squeal as she twisted around to smile at her father. "Could we?" she asked simply, though her meaning ran deeper. They had been heading for a hunt, but John waved her concern away.

"Bobby or Caleb can take care of things," he dismissed easily. "Or they'll know someone who can." He saw Jondy perk up slightly, natural curiosity about these names of people that she was unfamiliar with and how they related to her little sister. The two girls glanced at one another and the males recognized the same ease of non-verbal communication that they themselves excelled at. Amazing that it came so naturally after all those years apart. But that was family for you.

"Well," Jondy spoke slowly, assessingly, "if you really don't mind, then thank you. I accept."

"All right," Dean grunted, stretching his arms out before him, fingers interlaced, his knuckles cracking slightly. "Sounds like we've got some planning to do."

"First things first though," John shook his head. "Need to know where we're going." Three pairs of eyes focused on the redhead expectantly. Jondy, suddenly unsure of herself, just a tiny bit, nervously moistened her lips.

"Well, I always um, wanted to go to, well, California," she gave a tiny shrug. She couldn't explain why. Something about the state just sort of drew on her imagination. "I was thinking, maybe San Francisco?"

John leaned back, satisfied that she had provided a destination, a direction. And that it was, relatively speaking, close to Sam, well... He gave a sharp nod. "San Francisco it is then."


End file.
